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Above
on
the
roof
a
tapping
sound
.
Tap
-
rap
-
bang
.
Pause
.
Tap
-
rap
-
bang
.
Nail
and
hammer
.
Hammer
and
nail
.
A
bird
choir
.
And
an
old
woman
singing
in
a
frail
but
hearty
voice
.
"
Yes
,
we
’
ll
gather
at
the
river
.
.
.
river
.
.
.
river
.
.
.
Yes
,
we
’
ll
gather
at
the
river
.
.
.
That
flows
by
the
throne
of
God
.
.
.
"
"
Grandma
!
Great
-
grandma
!
"
Tap
,
softly
,
tap
.
Tap
,
softly
,
"
.
.
.
river
.
.
.
river
.
.
.
"
And
now
it
was
only
the
birds
picking
up
their
tiny
feet
and
putting
them
down
again
on
the
roof
.
Rattle
-
rattle
.
Scratch
.
Peep
.
Peep
.
Soft
.
Soft
.
"
.
.
.
river
.
.
.
"
Douglas
took
one
breath
and
let
it
all
out
at
once
,
wailing
.
He
did
not
hear
his
mother
run
into
the
room
.
A
fly
,
like
the
burning
ash
of
a
cigarette
,
fell
upon
his
senseless
hand
,
sizzled
,
and
flew
away
.
